


Sinews of the Heart

by icemink



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Character Turned Into Vampire, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-22 10:58:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21300932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icemink/pseuds/icemink
Summary: Set in AtS season 2/BtVS season 5. After Angel refuses to turn Darla, she goes looking for another member of her family to save her from the illness that is killing her.
Relationships: Darla & Spike (BtVS), Darla/Spike
Kudos: 7
Collections: Buffyverse Top 5





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a long long time ago. And the place it was originally posted is now gone. I found it again recently and decided I wanted it back up somewhere.

_Darla had left the light far behind her. There were no torches down here, no lanterns or candles. She was far too deep in the earth for the sunlight to touch her. _

_But the path in front of her was clear. Her golden eyes made out every loose rock and twist in the dark passage. Then the tunnel opened up into a large cavern. She walked in, not even bothering to look up at the large cross that hung like Damocles sword above her head._

_The Master was behind her, and he whispered in her ear, "Did he who made the Lamb make thee?" _

_She felt his hand on her thigh, unusually warm._

Darla woke with a start to find the hand of the man she'd hitched a ride with moving up her thigh. 

"Do you mind?" she said with annoyance.

"Just thought you'd like to know that we just drove into Sunnydale. Though why you'd want to come here. . ?"

"I have family here," she said absently. 

She was more interested in getting his hand off of her. Just because she'd used her looks to get a ride didn't mean she had any intention of rewarding the truck driver.

"You can pull over here," she told him.

"Hey, don't worry about it," he responded, squeezing her leg. "It's late, and this isn't a good town to wander through alone. I'll take you where ever you need to go, baby."

"Thanks," she said sweetly, forcing the muscles in her leg to relax, even as her hand closed about the handle of the razor she had in her jacket pocket.

With one swift motion, she pulled out the razor and sliced it across the man's jugular. She might not have the strength or speed of a vampire anymore, but she still had intimate knowledge of every vein and artery in the human body.

The driver's hands automatically reached up, trying to stem the blood that pumped out of his torn neck. Darla grabbed the steering wheel, trying to hold the truck steady and on the road until it came to a stop.

The driver was dead before that happened. Luckily there wasn't anyone else on the road right then, although the odd angle the truck had stopped at would let anyone who cared know that something was wrong. 

Darla didn't worry about that. She had killed for centuries without paying much mind to the local authorities. It never even occurred to her that now that she was human, things should be different.

"You shouldn't have mistaken me for prey," she said to the dead man, before wiping the blood off her hands on his jeans. 

She turned to open the passenger door, since she didn't know how to drive the big-rig, and for just a moment, she caught a glimpse of herself in the side-view mirror. The next thing she knew, she was leaning out the open window of the truck, vomiting onto the pavement.

When her stomach was empty, she opened the door with shaky hands and carefully stepped out of the truck.

_It's just the sickness,_ she told herself. _I had to kill him, he doesn't matter. It's just the sickness_

She took one last look at the body of the truck driver, to prove to herself that his corpse didn't bother her.

_Did he who made the Lamb make thee?_

The Master's voice drifted through her head. Had he ever actually said that? The words were familiar, and yet she couldn't place them. It sounded almost like something he might say, and yet he would have taken credit for her creation without a second thought.

She shook her head, chasing the useless thoughts away. Pulling her jacket tightly about her, she began to walk deeper into Sunnydale.

* * *

Spike stood on the catwalk of the Bronze, watching with angry eyes as the Slayer sat laughing with her friends, laughing with Riley.

_What could she possibly see in him?_ Spike wondered. Sure some people might have thought of Cap'n Cardboard as ruggedly handsome in a bland all American sort of way, but he probably didn't even know there were positions other than missionary. Now, Spike, he could show the Slayer all kinds of exciting ways to bend.

He was so wrapped up in watching the happy couple that he didn't even notice the woman approach him, or the familiarity of her scent. Instead, it was the smell of blood that caught his attention. 

His head shot up, and he turned to see a small blond leaning against the railing at the top of the stairs. _It couldn't be._ Not only was she supposed to be dead, but she certainly wasn't supposed to be alive, and the woman who regarded him with amusement was definitely alive. 

"Darla?" he asked in confusion.

He'd certainly seen stranger things on the Hellmouth, but just because this woman looked and smelled like his great-grandsire didn't mean Spike was willing to accept it. 

"Hello, William," she said as she moved closer to him. "Surprised?" she asked, arching one eyebrow.

His hand shot out, closing about her throat. He couldn't actually hurt her because of the chip, but he was hoping that whoever she was, she didn't know that. 

"Who are you? Who are you really?" he asked, letting just a little of his fangs show. Whoever she was, the bird was human, and a little bit of the demon might scare her into telling the truth.

She closed her eyes and placed her hand over his. But she didn't try and pull it away from her throat; instead, she caressed his fingers. As her hand moved nearer his face, he could smell the traces of fresh human blood on it. His mouth watered; it had been far too long since he'd had anything so fresh.

When she opened her eyes, she saw the hungry look in his, and she offered him her hand. Without stopping to think, he let go of her throat, taking her hand in his and sucking the small traces of blood off every finger. As his tongue ran over her palm, his hunger only increased. He could feel the pulse in her wrist, and the demon began to clamor for her blood. It didn't care who she was, only that she was warm and alive and human. 

She regarded him with a wicked smile. "Is this the part where I tell you something that only you and I would know? It's not like we had any deep dark secrets, William? Oh, wait, how did it go?

"Her hair is raven dark,  
Her heart is black as night,  
When her fangs are bared,  
The children take a fright."

"That. . . that was just an exercise," Spike sputtered. "Not even a first draft. I was just. . . just looking for words that rhymed. And if you ever repeat that. . ." 

"You'll what?" she interrupted. "Kill me? But William, Spike, that's exactly why I'm here." She paused, noting his startled expression. "Come sit with me," she beckoned, moving to sit on the couch.

He sat next to her, still unsure if this really was Darla. She explained to him how she'd been brought back by Wolfram & Hart, that she was now dying, and that Angel had refused to turn her.

"So you want me to sire you?" he asked incredulously. 

On the one hand, it made sense; Darla wasn't the sort to simply lie back and wait for death to come for her. But there were more profound implications. She wasn't just anyone, she was his great-grandsire, a relationship that wasn't as distant as it sounded. If he did this, it would change his relationships with his whole family. And although neither Angel or Dru were likely to show up in his life anytime soon, immortality meant they were bound to cross paths again.

And it wasn't as if he and Darla had ever really liked each other, although they hadn't hated each other either. Still, it was tempting, if only to claim something that had been Angel's. And he was a little flattered that she'd bothered to seek him out.

The problem was, it wasn't really up to him. With the chip in place, he couldn't bite her.

Seeing his indecision, she put a hand on his leg and leaned forward.

"I'll make it worth your while," she promised.

His cock twitched at the prospect. He'd heard and seen Darla enough times with Angel to know that 'worth his while' was an understatement.

"It's not that," he said regretfully.

In some ways admitting his chipped status to Darla was worse than going to the Slayer for help had been. It wasn't that he'd ever set out to prove himself to her, but that didn't mean it didn't rankle to admit that he was the weakest in the family. Even Angel with his soul could kill if he wanted to.

"I can't turn you. The government, they put a chip in my head, keeps me from hurting anyone, anyone human that is."

She regarded him for a moment, and Spike was torn between a desperate curiosity about what she was thinking and relief that he didn't know.

She lifted her hand to stroke his cheek, "I can slit my own throat if you'll do the rest."

Inside, the demon roared at her offer. Even if Spike couldn't sink her fangs in her throat, to have warm human blood, straight from the source, to suck at the wound in time to the beating of her heart was an offer he couldn't refuse. Not after being restrained for so long.

"Let's get out of here," he told her.

* * *

"That's it, he's not human, he's been replaced by some sort of demon," Xander declared. "Because nothing human could not laugh at the grilled goat cheese story."

"Huh?" Riley said, suddenly aware that everyone was watching him.

"Riley, what's up? You've been a distant guy for a while now." Buffy asked.

"Oh, sorry," he apologized to Buffy. "It's just. . . did you see that?"

"See what?" she looked around the Bronze, suddenly shifting from casual to alert.

"Spike," Riley told her. "He just left with some blond woman."

"Good for him," Xander said. Everyone turned to look at him. "What? Just because he's a blood-sucking fiend that would kill us all if he got a chance, doesn't mean he doesn't need to get laid. I mean, after all, his rebound girl from Dru was Harmony. Even Spike deserves better than that. And it's not like he can hurt her or anything."

"Xander's right," Buffy agreed. "At least about the not being able to hurt her. As for the rest, can we not talk about Spike and sex cause, ewww."

"Yes, it's understandable that Buffy would not want to think about Spike and another woman. After all, they were engaged," Anya said.

"Ahn!" Xander protested. "We're never supposed to mention that, remember?"

"But I was trying to be sympathetic," Anya protested.

"Wait! You were engaged to Spike?" Riley demanded of Buffy. Then he remembered that odd incident with the wedding dress, back before he knew she was the Slayer. "So wait, when you told me you were marrying a guy named Spike, you were serious?"

"No!" Buffy protested. "I mean, I was but. . . Willow made me do it!"

All thoughts of what Spike might be up to were driven out of Riley's mind as he once again was confronted with his girlfriend's odd attraction to the creatures she was supposed to kill.

* * *

The sounds of laughter echoing off the tombstones should have been out of place, but instead, Darla was overcome with a sense of belonging. But then, after the first few awkward moments of silence when they had left the Bronze, she and Spike and been reminiscing about old times.

"Those were good days, weren't they?" Spike asked her as he opened the door to his crypt.

"They really were," Darla agreed. "They could be again," she offered. He had yet to commit to turning her.

"Is this really what you want?" he asked as he let her go inside in front of him. "Shouldn't you have a soul and feel bad about all the killing and that sort of thing?"

She idly looked about the contents of Spike's crypt. It was evident that he had settled here in Sunnydale, though she had to wonder why. If he really was incapable of hurting humans, it seemed like a bad idea to stay so near the Slayer, since he couldn't fight back against her.

"Sometimes," she admitted. "I don't sleep as well as I used to, but. . . I still feel like me. Like the same Darla, I always was. I don't even remember what it was like to be human. And sometimes. . . Sometimes I think I'm going insane. No, it's not just that I'm dying, I want to know who I am again. I want to be me again."

Spike understood. Ever since the chip had been put in his brain, he'd just wanted to be himself again. For a hundred and twenty years, Spike had been happy and content with who he was, and then the government had gone and mucked it up. As far as he could see, the only thing that could have made things worse would be to have been made human. He'd never been comfortable in his own skin back then.

He took the hand he'd licked the blood from in his. "Now would that be Drusilla insane, or just psycho killer insane? A fellow wants to know what he's getting himself into."

She smiled. "A little of both maybe. The stars aren't talking to me yet, but. . . I keep hearing this phrase over and over, like when you get a song stuck in your head? 'Did he who made the lamb make thee?' I don't know what it means."

Spike smiled. "That's not insanity, Luv. That's poetry."

He began to recite, 

"Tiger, tiger, burning bright  
In the forests of the night,  
What immortal hand or eye  
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies  
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?  
On what wings dare he aspire?  
What the hand dare seize the fire? 

And what shoulder and what art  
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?  
And when thy heart began to beat,  
What dread hand and what dread feet? 

What the hammer? what the chain?  
In what furnace was thy brain?  
What the anvil? What dread grasp  
Dare its deadly terrors clasp? 

When the stars threw down their spears,  
And water'd heaven with their tears,  
Did He smile His work to see?  
Did He who made the lamb make thee? 

Tiger, tiger, burning bright  
In the forests of the night,  
What immortal hand or eye  
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?"

She smiled at him as he finished. She wondered if he knew that he'd lost his affected accent and reverted to the more refined speech of his human life.

"I'm still not sure that poetry proves I'm not insane," she said playfully.

It was strange how Spike put her at ease, he was so familiar, and yet she didn't feel like she had to fight him, conquer him like she always had with Angel.

"I think it proves that your subconscious is right in tune with the rest of you. You weren't meant for this frail human body, pretty as it is." He put his arm around her waist, drawing her close to him. Then he whispered in her ear, "We're meant to be killers, you and I."

Spike closed his eyes in pain, he couldn't kill the way he was meant to anymore, and the rapid beating of her heart only reminded him of that. He bent his head to lick a trail down her throat.

"Let me savor you," he pleaded, even though he knew that it was dangerous to let Darla realize you wanted something from her.

She pulled back from him a little, before reaching into the pocket of her coat to remove a razor. There was blood dried on the blade, the same serum he'd licked off Darla's fingers. In one quick motion, she opened her mouth and ran the edge down her tongue.

The scent of blood, fresh from the source, was more than Spike's over eager demon could bear. He grabbed Darla, slamming her against the wall as his tongue forced its way into her mouth. He sucked her tongue into his, the demon bursting forth at the few meager drops of blood she offered. His cock sprung to attention as he ground himself against her soft form.

It was only when the tiny wound refused to yield up more blood to his demanding kisses that he pulled away. Darla's face was flushed, her lips red and swollen from his kiss and the tiny cuts left by his fangs.

That's when it occurred to him how rough he'd just been with her, and that his chip hadn't fired.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked.

"Don't worry, baby, I always liked it rough," she told him.

The perfume of her arousal scenting the air confirmed her words. Spike hadn't consciously thought about whether Darla was enjoying his attentions or not; on the other hand, after a century of evil, he knew all the signs of an unwilling partner, and he hadn't set out to hurt her. He had no idea the intricacies of the inner workings of the chip, but maybe it was enough that he didn't mean to hurt her.

"Maybe I can bite you if you let me," he said hopefully.

Darla's breathless mouth twisted into an evil smile.

"You need my permission, do you, boy?" she teased. "Well, get on your knees, and I'll tell you where you can bite me."

There was a time when Spike would have railed against the term 'boy.' But that was when he was strong when he had Drusilla at his side. When he still carried the pride of being one of the most dangerous vampires in the world. Then he might have challenged Darla.

But he was so alone. Harmony was the only vampire who would have anything to do with him, and Darla's commanding tone was familiar, reassuring. It held in it the promise of family and home. Besides, she wasn't asking of him anything he didn't already want.

He sank to his knees, lifting her skirt to expose her beauty to him. Spike was amused but not surprised to find that after centuries of wearing corsets and petticoats, Darla now chose to go without any underwear at all, leaving her pink folds in plain view, and allowing the first traces of her arousal to spill down her thighs.

He lifted her knee, kissing the delicate skin underneath before hooking it over his shoulder.

"Shall I bite you here?" he asked, kissing her just above the knee. "Or here?" he kissed her further up her leg. He began to move slowly up her thigh, pausing after each feathery kiss to see if she would give her permission.

But she only watched him with her smiling green eyes, until just before he reached the last meaty part of her thigh before the juncture with her pussy. Then she closed her eyes and whispered, "There."

Without further prompting or thought, he sunk his fangs into her flesh. Blood flooded his mouth, sending his demon into a state of ecstasy. No cup of 0 Neg at Willie's or stolen blood bags from the hospital could compare to this. Blood hot and fresh from the source, the taste of hot flesh beneath his tongue, the rhythm of a heart beating.

After the first wave of pleasure at feeding after so long passed, he began to be aware of the finer points of her blood. He had never drunk from Darla when she was a vampire, but even now, she still tasted of their family. He could clearly taste Angel and Dru in her blood, or rather he recognized that part of her that he had always tasted in them. Her blood was deep and thick like well-aged scotch. But more than that, she was a connection back to the roots of the demon. A few steps closer to whatever ancient being had given birth to the vampiric race.

And yet there was a hint of sadness. Underneath the strength and power of Darla's ancient blood was the human frailness. The few sour strains of the disease that was ravaging her body. A reminder of why she had come to him. 

He didn't want to take too much of her blood just yet. It wouldn't be worth it to leave her too weak for what was to come next. Besides, the trembling of her heart, and the delighted gasps she let out with each pull of blood he took, reassured him that he would be allowed to return to his feast whenever he pleased, so he licked shut the puncture wounds left by his fangs, not wanting to let a single delicious drop of her blood escape him.

When he was satisfied, he pulled his head back, to admire Darla in all her glory. He was so wrapped up in admiration and anticipation of her pussy that he was startled when she spoke.

"Do you need instructions?" she teased. "You'd hardly be the first boy I had to teach to pleasure a woman."

He scoffed at her, "I can manage just fine on my own, thanks." Still, he took it all in good humor, Darla always had been a bossy chit, it would only make it that much better when he had her all weak and trembling, begging him to let her get off.

Darla endured with patience as he licked the inside of her thighs, catching the juices that had already escaped her wet pussy. When his tongue began to tease her outer folds, she leaned her head back against the cold stone wall, letting the sensations slowly roll over her.

She tried to remember when it was that someone had last gone down on her. But it seemed a trifling question compared to the more important one of why she had never taken this beautiful creature on his knees before her until now? For the life of her, she couldn't find an answer to that question, all she knew was that he should have been hers to play with as she pleased and that now she would have that chance.

Even those thoughts were driven away as his tongue penetrated her.

"Oh, yes," she moaned as her finger descended to tangle in his hair. She resisted the urge to thrust against his face, allowing him to build the pleasure slowly.

She was impressed at his skill with which he drew every sigh and moan from her. She looked down at him, and his golden eyes caught hers. She couldn't look away, entranced by his lustful gaze as he fucked her with his tongue.

She was so caught up in the feelings building inside her that she didn't notice that they were no longer alone until she heard the other woman's voice, "Blondie bear?"

Even though she had spoken softly, Harmony's voice might as well have been nails on a chalkboard, as far as Spike was concerned. Between Darla's return from the grave and her request that he sire her, he had completely forgotten about the other vampire he had recently allowed to share his crypt.

For just a moment, Spike felt the instinct to try and explain his actions. But there was no doubt in his mind which of the two women he would choose if he had to make a choice.

Knowing that Darla would appreciate decisiveness, he got off his knees and turned to face Harmony.

"Spike, how could you?" Harmony asked sorrowfully.

"Sorry, Harm," he said. "But the truth is most of the time, you drive me around the bend."

"But. . ." before Harmony could finish, Spike had pulled a stake out of his coat and driven it into her heart.

"Actually," he said as she turned to dust. "I'm not sorry at all."

He turned back to Darla, who leaned against the wall, her face flushed her heart beating rapidly in her chest.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I forgot about her."

She raised one eyebrow at him and looped her arms around his neck. "I wonder if I should be offended at your taste in blonds?"

"Harmony was just convenient," he told her. "You are. . ." 

He was at a loss for words. Not because he couldn't think of any adjectives to describe Darla, but because he wasn't really sure what it meant that she was here with him.

"A miracle," he finished.

She laughed, "If I'm a miracle, I'm a poor one. But enough talking." She pressed her body against his. "I need one last good hard fuck before I die."

He didn't answer her with words; instead, he crashed his lips against hers, forcing her back against the wall.

His hand reached around her back, gripping her dress at the top. With one swift motion, he yanked on the dress, breaking the straps and pulling it from her body.

He took a step back then so he could admire his handy work. Darla stood confidently, raising her arms above her head to give him an unobstructed view of her body.

Then he saw her tremble slightly, her body now exposed to the cool air of the crypt. He could see her skin goose-pimple, and he decided that fucking her against the cold stone walls wasn't the best idea.

He slipped off his duster, wrapping it around her before scooping her up in his arms. He carried her to the trap door that led to the crypt's lower level. He ignored the ladder, choosing instead to simply leap down to the floor below.

He placed her on the bed, admiring the contrast between the black leather of his duster and her pale skin. 

He pulled his t-shirt off over his head. Darla smiled as she saw the muscles of his abdomen stretch. She had never really paid attention to Spike's body before, and now she was realizing how much she'd missed.

He kicked off his boots before he noticed the way she was devouring him with her eyes. He grinned at her before slowly unbuckling his belt.

When he undid the zipper of his jeans, letting his cock spring free, she licked her lips in anticipation.

"Is all that for me?" she asked.

He moved on top of her, letting his cock slide between her legs.

"Every last inch," he said before capturing her swollen lips in a kiss.

While he attacked her lips with renewed vigor, her hand moved down between them until she could curl her fingers around his cock. When she squeezed the sensitive head, he broke off the kiss to moan.

"You're going to feel so good inside of me," she told him. "Can't wait to have you."

She positioned the head of his cock at her wet eager entrance. He didn't wait for any more permission from her; he simply drove into her hot depths.

"Oh, God!" she cried at the same moment, he moaned, "Fuck!"

She was like liquid fire. It had been a hell of a long time since Spike had sex with a human, he'd forgotten what it was like to feel their every hot muscle throb. To explore their bodies writhe as they tried to keep air moving in and out of their lungs. 

She was tight around him, to begin with, and then when he didn't start to move in her right away, she squeezed him with hidden muscles, it was all he could do not to come then and there. Instead, he started pumping in and out of her.

She wrapped her legs around his waist. He'd stripped her of her dress, but she was still wearing her shoes, and she dug the stiletto heels into his ass, letting him know just how rough she wanted it.

He complied, matching her pace, forcing a stream of obscenities from her mouth as she begged him for more. It was incredible to have Darla so needy beneath him. To hear her cry out for him with all the passion she used to use when she was with Angelus.

How could the wanker have possibly said no to her? But then Angel had a history of leaving magnificent women behind him.

With every thrust, he pressed his pelvic bone against her clit, sending shocks of pleasure through her body. The way he stretched and filled her had Darla nearly incoherent with pleasure. 

His hand moved to cup her breast. He lifted it, raising it until he could suck the hard bud into his mouth. Then without warning, he sunk his fangs into the soft, yielding flesh of her breast.

Her hips jerked up as she screamed his name. Her whole world was collapsing down around her as the sensations from her breast and clit collided somewhere deep inside of her.

He had to struggle not to let his fangs tear her skin as she bucked underneath him. Her tight channel convulsed around his cock, and with the taste of her hot blood in his mouth, he quickly followed her over the edge.

When their bodies finally came to rest, he removed his fangs from her breast, gently licking at the wounds and teasing her nipple with the tip of his tongue, before rolling off of her.

Spike couldn't remember the last time he'd felt that fulfilled after sex. It wasn't just the physical part, although that had been fantastic, it was the feeling of being connected again. He'd never had that with Harmony, and even with Dru, it had been some time before Prague when he'd last felt like he was really with her.

"Oh, god," Darla sighed in contentment. "It's been so long since I've had a good simple fuck."

Her words stung him. She probably didn't mean anything by it, but the thought that he was nothing but convenient to her was a bitter thought, and suddenly Spike needed to know what it was he was getting himself into.

He propped himself up on a warm arm so that he could look down at her. 

"If I sire you, I won't let you just go on your merry way," he told her.

"_If?_" she asked sitting up. "I thought you'd agreed," she accused him. 

A shiver ran down her spine. How long did she have before she died? How long before she was too weak and bedridden to find a vampire to sire her. She had come to Spike, hoping that she could trust him as a family to take care of her, to bring her back into the fold. But if he wasn't going to help her, she'd have to find some vampire too dumb to double-cross her.

He could see the pain and fear in her eyes, something he never thought he'd see from Darla. On the other hand, she'd been stripped of everything she'd had, everything she'd been. For the first time, he really appreciated what it must have taken for this proud woman to come to him and ask for help, and he knew he couldn't turn her down.

"Shh, I will, promise, I just. . . never-mind," he told her.

He smoothed back her hair, exposing the pale expanse of her neck. 

"So um, shall I? I mean now?" he asked awkwardly.

"I guess," she said uncertainly. "I mean, yes," she said with a little more conviction. "It might as well be now. There will be plenty of time to play once I've risen."

"Right then."

They had fallen into bed as if they been old lovers, moving together with perfect rhythm. But now they were awkward. As Spike's head moved towards her neck, she shifted, intending to give him a better angel, but instead hitting his nose with her shoulder. Finally, he pulled her into his arms. He stared at the trembling of her pulse for just a moment before he bent down to bite her.

Pain ripped through his head. "Bloody! Fucking! Hell!" he screamed as the chip fired.

He'd completely forgotten about the damned thing. It seemed that although it would let him bite Darla if his purpose was her pleasure, it drew the line at killing her, even if it was what she wanted.

She reached out to stroke the side of his face.

"The chip?" she asked. He nodded. "I'm so sorry. I promise, we'll get it out, make you whole again."

His embarrassment at his handicap was mollified by her concern. No one else had really bothered to care that he was a government experiment in mind control.

"I'm sorry, I'm messing this up," he replied.

She shushed him, kissing him gently on the lips. "It doesn't matter, just get me a knife."

He nodded, rising up from the bed. He couldn't shake the feeling that she deserved better than this. She had been a magnificent vampire, she shouldn't have to be sired by a vampire who couldn't even bite her.

He rummaged through his weapons, making sure to find a knife with a sharp blade. He didn't want to make this any harder or more painful than it had to be. The irony that he could have spared her any real pain if he could have bitten her was not lost on him, but now that his intention was to kill, Spike didn't see any way he could fool the chip.

He crawled back in bed with her, taking her in his arms once again as he gave her the knife. She held the blade to her throat, looking him in the eye. He leaned down to kiss her gently one more time and then nodded that he was ready when she was.

Her green eyes closed, and she took a deep breath before drawing the blade across her skin.

Almost instantly, Spike's mouth was on her throat, catching the blood the bubbled forth. He pressed his tongue against the wound, trying to stem the flow of blood so that she wouldn't fade too quickly. The hot blood pumped into his mouth, and he swallowed it eagerly, all the while listening to the slowing of her heart.

When her heartbeat began to falter, he pulled back, and slashed his own wrist with his fangs, before holding it to her lips so she could drink. While she drank, he pressed the fingers of his other hand to her throat, keeping the rest of her life from spilling away too quickly.

Despite her weakened condition from the blood loss, her mouth pulled in long eager sucks, drawing the stolen blood out of him and back into her.

When he knew she'd had more than enough to ensure that she would come back strong and sure, he pulled his wrist away so that he could kiss away the traces of blood from her lips, and watch her through her last moments as a living woman.

He was so wrapped up in her death that he never heard the footsteps in the crypt above.


	2. Part II

Riley had left the Bronze early. Deep down, he knew Buffy's engagement to Spike had been an illusion created by Willow's magic, but he still needed time to digest it and come to terms with it.

Which would be easier to do if he could vent some of his frustration on Spike. Besides, it still bothered him that some poor innocent woman had left with Spike. Even if Spike couldn't hurt her, she still deserved to be warned that she was about to become a necrophiliac.

He didn't bother to knock on the door of the crypt, he simply walked in, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light.

There on the floor was the red dress the woman had been wearing, lying in tatters. That didn't bode well, although Riley couldn't see any other sign of the couple.

Then he noticed the open trap door. He moved quickly, descending into the lower level without worrying about any potential dangers.

He let go of the rungs of the ladder and moved through the small passageway that opened up into Spike's bedroom.

What Riley saw there confirmed his every suspicion. Spike looked up in surprise at Riley, his fangs smeared with blood.

In his arm lay the blond woman, her features pale, blood trickling from her neck. They were both naked. Her head lolled to the side, and Riley saw her eyes blink, letting him know she was still alive.

"Look, Riley," Spike started, but Riley didn't give him the chance to finish.

The soldier dashed forward, his fist connecting with Spike's jaw. The force of the blow was enough to throw Spike off of the woman's body. Riley looked down at her, the slight rise and fall in her chest telling him he wasn't too late to save her just yet, although he wasn't sure how grateful she would be.

Spike hadn't just tried to kill her, he'd obviously toyed with her and sexually assaulted her. There were fang marks on her breast and thigh. It took every ounce of self-control that Riley possessed to keep from staking Spike. But even though the vampire couldn't fight back, he wasn't an easy target, and every second that he wasted trying to rid the world brought the woman closer to death. If she was to have any hope at all, he had to get her to a hospital right away.

He scooped the woman up into his arms. In whatever sick fantasy Spike had been indulging in, he'd put his duster on her, and now it provided cover for her delicate naked form.

Riley was rushing back towards the ladder when he heard a snarl behind him. He turned in time to see Spike leap at him only to be brought up short by the chip. Confident that the vampire was impotent, Riley moved back up to the crypt as quickly as he could while carrying the woman.

Once he reached the surface, he rushed her to his car. He checked her faltering pulse as he placed her in the car. He could only hope there would be enough time to get her to a hospital.

* * *

Sunnydale had been witness to some of Spike's most humiliating moments. In fact, if you ignored his human life, Sunnydale had been witness to all of the most humiliating moments of his life. But none of them were worse than this.

Darla had entrusted him with her life, and he had let her down. The soldier boy had her now, and there was no telling what he'd do to her. It was logical that he'd take her to a hospital. But would it happen then? Would the doctors be able to keep her from dying? What would happen to her if they did? 

Although Finn was ignorant about who Darla was, the Slayer would know, and Spike was willing to bet that the soldier couldn't wait to rush to his girlfriend and tell her that Spike was killing again. Whether she lived or died, being found by the Slayer wouldn't be good for Darla. He could hope that Finn wouldn't think about the possibility that Spike had turned her, but Buffy would know better, especially once she recognized Darla. There was no way he was going to let either of them decapitate Darla's corpse.

And all of that was ignoring whatever kind of abuse the doctors might put Darla's body through. He'd never hear the end of it if she had to go through eternity with autopsy scars.

But first thing first. Sike got dressed as quickly as possible. As an afterthought, he grabbed his old red button-down shirt. He hadn't worn it in a while, but he might need something to wrap Darla's body up in, and Soldier Boy had taken his duster along with her. 

Spike moved quickly out of his crypt. The scent of Darla's blood in the air was sharp and easy to follow. Unfortunately, it ended at series of skid marks just outside the cemetery gates. Cars were not so easy to track, so Spike just had to hope that he was right in assuming that Cap'n Cardboard was headed to Sunnydale General. 

He ran through the streets of Sunnydale using every bit of speed at his disposal. When he got to the hospital parking lot, he could once again smell Darla's blood. There right in front of the emergency room entrance was Finn's Jeep.

At least he had found her now, although how he was going to get her out of the hospital was another story entirely. He moved cautiously inside, trying not to draw attention to himself. It wouldn't do for Finn to see him, considering that Spike couldn't fight back no matter how much he wanted to.

Luckily he didn't really have to worry about the hospital staff. The few that were visible were too busy going about their business. Darla's scent went behind doors that were clearly marked "Hospital Staff Only." Even if he stole a lab coat, there was no way anyone would believe he was a doctor or nurse.

Then he heard Finn coming around the corner. Spike hid in a janitor's closet, hating the fact that he had to. That he couldn't simply burst through the doors, snapping the neck of any doctor, orderly, or nurse who got in his way. Darla had re-ignited his blood lust, and having to restrain his demon now, was like being chipped all over again.

"Look, Buffy, I know what I saw," Riley said. "Spike's killing again. This woman I got out of his crypt, was practically dead. I don't think the doctors are going to be able to save her."

Spike could just hear Buffy's voice on Riley's cell phone. "Are you all right? If the chip isn't working, Spike's one of the most dangerous vampires out there, and he really doesn't like you. Maybe I should come down there, just in case."

He couldn't help but swell with pride when he heard Buffy call him dangerous. Good to know that the Slayer still respected him. It was also good to know that she thought her boy toy needed protecting from him.

"No, I'm fine," Riley told her. "I was more than able to handle Spike." Spike snorted. "The chip still works anyway. At least it does sometimes. He tried to attack me, and it went off."

"So, if the chips working, how could he have killed her?" Buffy asked. "Maybe he was trying to save her?" she added doubtfully.

"And that would explain why they were both naked in bed," Riley answered sarcastically.

"Look, Riley, we need to know what's really going on here. I'm coming down to the hospital, maybe this woman can give us some hints. Just wait till I get there," she ordered her boyfriend.

"But Buffy I-" but there was nothing but a clicking noise as Buffy hung upon him.

For a moment, Spike smirked. It was good to hear the Slayer treating Finn like the idiot he was. Not to mention the fact that she wasn't willing to turn against him right away. That thought stopped Spike. Was she really defending him? Or was she just being her usual clever self and realizing that more could be going on than met the eye? On the other hand, for all intents and purposes, Spike had killed Darla, and he was pretty sure the Slayer wouldn't care that it had been at her request.

Spike could try and cover this all up, hide what he'd done, find some sort of excuse to get him back in the Slayer's good graces, or he could accept that he'd already made his choice even if he hadn't meant to.

He might dream of the Slayer, want her desire her, maybe even care for her. But he couldn't really imagine ever winning her over, however right for each other part of him thought they were. She was a dream he had been willing to pursue when he had had no other options, but now Darla had come along and changed everything. He might not know how he Darla fit together, but she was within his reach, and she had offered to make him whole again. Could he really turn his back on that?

Of course, what really mattered right now was keeping Buffy away from Darla. If their paths crossed while Darla was helpless, Spike was sure he'd lose both women. The problem was that Soldier Boy was hovering right outside the door to the closet Spike had hidden in.

"Excuse me, sir," an unfamiliar voice said.

"Yes, doctor, how is she?" Riley asked.

"I'm sorry. There was nothing we could do for her. We tried to resuscitate her, but she had already lost too much blood." There was a moment of silence before the doctor spoke again. "Would you mind coming with me? The police want to ask a few questions about how you found her."

"Yes, of course," Riley said.

Spike listened until he heard their footsteps dwindle away. Then he left the closet. Spike couldn't worry about being subtle now. He had to get to Darla as quickly as possible. He moved through the staff only doors, doing his best to act like he belonged. 

It was easy to find the room where the doctors had worked on her, but her body was gone. All that was left was someone cleaning up, and his duster discarded on the floor. For a moment, he hesitated before pushing the doors open and dashing forward to grab the duster.

He heard the orderly calling out, "Hey!" behind him, but Spike ignored him. He knew where Darla had to be, and he was going to get there as quickly as possible. He ignored all of the staff that yelled at him as he dashed through the halls of the hospital, heading to the morgue.

He burst through the doors of the morgue, startling a man who was eating a sandwich while typing at a computer. Not wanting to deal with explanations, Spike shifted to his game face hoping to scare the man into leaving him alone.

Startled, the man dropped his sandwich, before grabbing a cross and raising it in front of him.

"Look, whichever one it is you want, just take it go," the man told Spike sounding more annoyed than scared.

"Aren't you supposed to stop people from walking off with the bodies?" Spike asked. The man's unexpected reaction causing him to forget why he was in such a hurry.

"Yeah, but it's better you walking off with a body than it getting up and walking off on its own. Do you have any idea how annoying that is? I won't even do autopsies during the night anymore. I mean, it never fails. You start to examine the liver, and next thing you know, the corpse is starting at you and really pissed off. Honestly, you're doing me a favor."

"Oh, well right then," Spike said, a little disappointed that he couldn't scare the man. "You seen a jane doe they just brought down? Blonde bird, real pretty?"

"Over there," the man pointed to one of the body bags. "I should have known it was her. Hot chick dies of blood loss. . . " He looked at Spike, who hadn't started moving yet. "Well, don't take all night about it, I do have work to do, you know. Some of these people really are dead."

Spike just nodded and moved over to the body bag. He unzipped it, seeing Darla's pale face. He quickly wrapped her back up in the duster.

"Uh, thanks," he told the man. "Have a good night."

"Yeah, yeah," the man said, returning to his sandwich.

* * *

Her eyes flew open. For the last several months, it had seemed to Darla that she was living in a fog, her senses dim and dull.

But not anymore. Darla could see the grain in the burnt-out wood above her, even though there was no light. She could hear the heartbeats of the rats that scuttled about. She could smell Spike to one side and something that smelled like burnt flesh, although it wasn't human. She could feel the pulse of the Hellmouth beneath her feet.

She sat up, her gaze immediately falling on her new sire, surprised at what she saw. He was not the cocky young vampire she remembered, not even the proud Slayer of Slayers she'd heard stories about. Instead, he hung his head. 

She'd seen the cracks before when she'd first asked him to sire her, but now he looked broken, ashamed.

"William," she called out softly.

He looked up at her, "You're awake. Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yes, of course, although my chest is a little sore."

She looked down. She was wearing nothing but a red button-down shirt and his duster. She reached up to undo the first few buttons and expose her chest to view. Ugly bruises marred the center of her chest just above her breasts, although now that she had risen, they were beginning to heal and fade from view.

"What happened?" she asked. She tried to think back. She remembered slitting her throat, and Spike's mouth on her neck, catching her life as it spilled away. She remembered him offering her his wrist, and drinking from it. After that, it became fuzzy. She thought she remembered a man, but she couldn't be sure of anything after that.

He kneeled before her, burying her face in her hands. 

"I'm so sorry. I almost lost you," Spike admitted. "There's this fellow, used to be one of the soldiers that put the chip in my head, and now he's dating the Slayer. He found us last night. He tried. . . He took you from me. I couldn't fight him. I almost lost you."

"Shh, it's all right," she told him, running her hands through his hair. "It's all okay. Whatever happened, you did what you needed to, and I'm fine."

She slipped off the ruined desk that she had been laying on and knelt down with Spike, cupping his face in her hands.

"We'll make them pay," she promised. "You want to kill him, don't you?" she asked, even though she could see the answer in Spike's eyes. "Then I promise you I will. I said I'd fix you, didn't I?"

He pulled away from her, kicking at the ruins of the school desk. 

"Don't make promises that you can't keep," he snarled. "You should get out of town. The Slayer is going to be looking for me, that's why I brought you here. Figured she'd be more likely to look for me at Willie's than her old alma mater. But I can't protect you from her. And I don't think she's going to take to kindly to you being back."

For a moment, Darla wondered what had happened to the high school. It was a little sad, she'd killed so many boys in these walls. It was just one more piece of her old life that had been taken away.

"I'll leave, but you're coming with me. In L.A. I know people who can help you. And the price?" she smiled. "I'm willing to bet it's one we'll be willing to pay."

Holland had told her that what Wolfram & Hart wanted from Angel was to turn him dark, to bring back Angelus. That's why they'd brought her back, and if they could do that, they could get rid of Spike's chip. For all, she knew they were the ones who'd sold the technology to the government in the first place.

After all, they must have wanted her to be a vampire. She couldn't believe that they could have made a mistake in her resurrection. Spells were a form of contract, and those lawyers always read the fine print. They probably wanted to force Angel to turn her in order to save her, but she was reasonably sure they would be willing to help Spike if it meant getting both her and his help in bringing Angel back into the fold.

"You mean it don't you?" Spike said, afraid to hope again. "You really think. . ."

"I know," she assured him, before kissing him lightly. "And then, once you're better, we'll come back. And we'll make Buffy Summers pay for everything she's ever done to our family."

"Family," Spike repeated. Then he smiled, pressing Darla's hand to his heart. "It's good to be home again."

The pulled her into his arms, catching her lips in a deep kiss that lasted several breathless minutes. When they finally pulled apart, he whispered in her ear, "Now, let's get you something to eat."

The Beginning. . .


End file.
